


Sick

by Mary_the_gardener



Series: Advent songfics challenge 2019 [14]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: A few graphic metaphors, Description of physical pain, Gen, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21783751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mary_the_gardener/pseuds/Mary_the_gardener
Summary: I just really miss him, ok? *sobs into her pillow*Also mind the tags please.Inspired to: Sick - Twelve Foot NinjaDisclaimer: I have only little experience with sinusitis myself and have no idea how a chronic one feels like or what the necessary operations include, this is a work of fiction with no intention of depicting actual facts in their reality, created only for art's sake.Edit: Due to copyright restrictions, all thelyricsin the work have been replaced by anx.
Series: Advent songfics challenge 2019 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558414
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Sick

**Author's Note:**

> I just really miss him, ok? *sobs into her pillow*
> 
> Also mind the tags please.
> 
> Inspired to: Sick - Twelve Foot Ninja
> 
> Disclaimer: I have only little experience with sinusitis myself and have no idea how a chronic one feels like or what the necessary operations include, this is a work of fiction with no intention of depicting actual facts in their reality, created only for art's sake.
> 
> Edit: Due to copyright restrictions, all the [lyrics ](https://genius.com/Twelve-foot-ninja-sick-lyrics) in the work have been replaced by an **x**.

It's not like it happened suddenly, you had always battled with annoying colds and headaches. But as you grew it only seemed to get worse, despite doctors telling you it was going to pass once you grew up.

**x [1]**

So when that summer you had to train a little less and lay in the sun a little more, it didn't really worry you that much.

**x [1]**

But as the fall came on and the cold lay his hug on Saint Petersburg, it only got worse. The dull pain never left you. The sleepless night never got shorter.

**x**

The pain was a constant companion, coming and going in waves with your motions. Dum. Dum. Dum. Dum. DUM. It spiked as you bent down to tie your laces, it spiked as you moved horizontally for that camel spin, it spiked as you launched your body up in the air. It's how a plushie would feel, if it could feel, when they trow it on the ice after your program. A stuffed toy, and sometimes you felt like you were going to explode.

Let's clean you up they said. They emptied your skull, sucked it all out, is this how mummies would feel, if they could feel? They say it will help you, and you believe them, because maybe this way it will prevent you from exploding. But time was ticking fast and merciless and you found yourself running, your lungs burning, to hop on that bus that's just about to leave. You barely made it.

**x**

Let's do it again, they said, and you agree, you refuse their invitation to World Team Trophy to go lock yourself into an hospital room again. You let them screw you up again, with all their little tubes and weird pills. You can't move, they said, and it's ok, there's a lot of things you can do from your little bed, and with a mummy-empty skull sounds don't echoes in your brain anymore.

**x**

And then? Then it seems all right but it was not. It lasted just a bit and then Dum. Dum. Dum. September comes and you're a stuffed toy all again. It's the constant headache, pulsing like waves of the sea. It's the coughing every night, the mouth that feels like you ate raw dough. The sensationo sinking under water, every sound coming through a layer of cotton. The pain that spreads down to your jaw and you can't understand anymore where it's actually coming from.

**x**

You are tired of being emptied like a mummy. And so let's mold this defective skull of yours. It will take time, preparation, all those tubes into you again. And a few things even worse. And you're going to miss out on half the season. But is it really a loss? When you would had to jump with your head throbbing, spin with drums ringing in your ears, pain taking hold of your concentration with every stroke. It would lead to nothing, you decide. And say yes, let's do it. Final.

Final but long and you have to stay still but it feels like you're running, running running after that bus which has the engine one already and is about to leave and what if you can't get in at the next stop?

You're running and you're stuck and the clock is ticking. It's ticking. It's ticking.

**x**


End file.
